He Can't Swim!
by DemonicPiano
Summary: Arthur cannot swim, so when he falls off of a boat, an unexpected hero dives after him. Oneshot!


"Did you catch anything?"

A heavy sigh ran to the other side of the fishing boat. "No, Alfred."

Nothing besides the jostling of the ocean waves passed between the two brothers.

"How about now?"

"No," was the terse reply.

Alfred threw his head back, giving his fishing pole an aggressive shake. "Come on! At first, I thought you suck at fishing, Mattie, but now _I'm_ not getting anything..."

"So that means you suck, too?"

"No, it must mean there's nothing out here."

Matthew gave his fishing rod a last tug before pulling up the line. "Look around you. It's the whole ocean; there has to be something out there."

"Guys, there is something out there!"

Both brothers turned their heads to the distant call from the other side of the boat. Alfred said, "You hear that? I think Artie found something!"

Perhaps it was too early to put away their poles. They hurried to the source of the call, where two other blonds leaned over the boat's railing, peering into the choppy water. Matthew asked, "What is it?"

His brother asked louder, "What is it?"

Arthur and Francis glanced at their approach. The latter pointed to the sea, "Something shiny has caught my eye!"

"You buffoon!" Arthur snapped. "I saw it first."

The other man shrugged, "You merely saw a trick of the light."

Before something particularly nasty could come out about Francis' lack of a razor, Alfred waved his arms. "All right, all right. Where is this thing? Is it still around?"

Arthur gripped onto the metal railing instead of anybody's neck. "It is right...oh, where is it?"

Francis exclaimed, "You lost it!"

"I did not! The waves took it away!"

As Matthew went to one side of the boat to look into the water, Alfred offered, "I'll get my fishing rod, and maybe we can hook onto...uh, whatever is out there!"

His brother set his hands on the railing, only to jerk back as the metal wobbled beneath his palms. "Be careful, guys. This rail is loose over here." The others snipped at one another over the mysterious object, not hearing his warning. With a sigh, he scooted to a more sturdy spot, scanning the blue-gray water for anything strange. A glint caught his eye, and he gasped excitedly at a sight of a glass bottle bobbing up and down. "Hey! There's something!" He clamped his mouth shut, knowing they were not listening, so he rushed over to the pair, and clasped a hand on Francis's shoulder, practically speaking into his ear, "I think I saw the thing!"

"You did?! Why did you not say so?!"

Matthew rolled his eyes as they rushed to the side of the boat where he saw it. The metal groaned with two bodies pressing against it. Arthur threw an arm out to the water. "Hah! There it is! I told you!"

"Told me what? I do not remember you saying anything besides 'Blah, blah, blah, blah!'"

"Why, you!"

Alfred returned, announcing, "Dudes, I got my rod!"

The duo ushered him over to look at the trinket. Francis said, "It is a bottle. I do not think a fishing rod is going to be able to hook onto that."

"Um, hey, guys, you shouldn't lean on the railing-"

"There's a cork in there, right?" Alfred tapped the bottom of his fishing pole against the boat's metal floor. "It must be nice and soft to easily grab onto!"

Arthur grumbled, both him and Francis stepping out of the way for Alfred to come through. "You can try, but I doubt that will work."

"Arthur, hey, be careful! I think the bolts are loose-"

"Ready for this?" Alfred loosened his line before raising his pole above his head. "You better watch out, 'cause if this gets in your eye-"

The other two clutched on the rails out of eagerness, but when Arthur put his weight onto the banister, the bolt at the bottom fell out of its loose socket, and the entire fence swung out in the direction of the water. Francis leaped from his spot, shouting as the other man stumbled and slipped from lost of balance.

"Oh my god!" Alfred dropped his fishing rod behind him as their friend's arms flailed, his scream of terror cutting off as he plunged into the cold ocean. "Get the rope! Get the rope!" He hollered at Francis, who was wailing as if he were the one that fell into the water. "Hurry! He can't swim! Hold on, Artie! I'm coming for you!"

As Alfred ripped off his glasses, shoving them into an inner jacket pocket before peeling that off, Matthew darted forward. He leaped, sailing over the rail as his brother was hopping around, trying to tug his boots off. Once he cut into the water, he felt his own glasses fling a long ways from him, and the chill of the sea bubbled to the surface at his disturbance. "Arthur!" He tried, but water smacked his face, silencing his already hushed voice.

With a labored inhale, Matthew dove under water, grabbing wherever he saw dark spots dance across his blurred vision. His hand swiped against cloth, and he immediately clutched onto it, yanking upwards. Arthur's head aired, coughing and sputtering to get salty water from his throat as him and the other blond buoyed up and down with heavy leg work beneath the surface.

Alfred and Francis scrambled on the boat, yanking and fighting with the anchor's rope, but Matthew only saw the blue of the sky meshing into the fuzzy shapes of the ship. Arthur's eyes must have also been clogged with water, since he slumped against his rescuer's chest, gripping onto his shirt for his survival, and murmured, "Alfred? Y-You saved my life."

"Eh?" Matthew gripped onto Arthur tighter so he would not sink away. The bottle bobbed right in front of him, so he did not reject the opportunity to grab it with his free arm. Both almost died for it, after all. "N-No, it's all right, but I'm not-"

"You idiot. We could have both died." Arthur did not sound angry at all, but his tone was rather gushing. Still blinking water from his eyes, he stretched his neck to press his lips to his rescuer's cheek. "I suppose I must thank you."

"Oh!" Despite the frigid water jostling them, Matthew felt heat burn his face. "Y-You're welcome, but you have the wrong brother."

"What." Arthur glanced up to the boat, now able to see Alfred and Francis yank a thick rope over the side of the boat. "Matthew?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Oh, God," Arthur clamped wet hands over his eyes. "Do us both a favor, and let me go."

"Why would I do that?"

"So I can drown!"

"I am _not_ going to do that," Matthew declared. The end of the rope plunked into the water, and he pushed himself through the numbing tides to reach it. "Okay, here's the rope. Can you climb up?"

Arthur grabbed the line with pale fists, and tossed a glare over his shoulder. "I am not incompetent."

"I did not say you were," Matthew patiently replied. "I was making sure you are well enough to make it back up to the boat on your own."

A strange, touched look reached the other man's face, and he quickly averted his gaze to scaling the side of the ship. Matthew momentarily dunked under the surface as he tucked the bottle into the back of his jean's pocket, popping up to grasp the rope. Alfred heaved, and yanked both of the soaked blonds to the deck, while Francis did his best at looking concerned.

Matthew and Arthur flopped against the metal floor, panting, and too numb to shiver as the ocean breeze rolled over their dripping bodies. The supposed gentleman groaned, "Ugh, that was bloody awful."

"Dudes!" Alfred swooped down and peeled Arthur from the floor, wrapping his arms around his smaller frame to squeeze any leftover water from his lungs.

"Ack!" A few sputters flew out of Arthur's mouth. "What in the world are you doing? Have I almost died enough today?"

Francis had returned from disappearing for a moment, holding a decent wad of beach towels. Matthew had managed to stand on his own quivering legs, hoping his friend would understand his weak nod as a thanks.

Alfred proclaimed, "I'm turning this boat around. We got to get back to land and get a doctor or something."

"I am fine. I am breathing, now, am I not? I do not need a doctor."

"Um, actually," Matthew spoke up, "Your lungs can still fill up with fluids even after you're out of the water. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Really?" Arthur looked to him with wide eyes, but dropped his gaze to the bolts holding the ground together as his ears reddened. "I guess that makes sense," he admitted, coughing a few times to clear his throat.

Francis snickered, "My, my. It looks like Alfred is not the hero he made himself out to be."

"What?!" Alfred squawked. "I am so! I was headed into the water to get him!"

"Of course, after your shoes and jacket and other so-called important things were kept safe and dry."

Arthur gasped, "You are kidding!" He gave Alfred a frazzled glare.

"Yeah, um, I'm going to steer the boat now. Bye!"

"It doesn't matter," Matthew assured. "You are alive and with us now."

"I...oh, why, thank you." Arthur eagerly nodded, punctuating, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." The other blond saw the flustered expression that he was still wearing, and insisted before anything weird could happen, "No, seriously. Don't mention it."

He remembered why Arthur wound up in the ocean in the first place, and reached behind him, taking out the prize from his rear pocket. He tipped and turned the glass container over in his hands with panicked motions. The bottle that caused so much trouble had nothing inside of it.


End file.
